


imagine

by thunderylee



Category: KAT-TUN (Band), NewS (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, M/M, Masturbation, Unrequited Love, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-28
Updated: 2009-11-28
Packaged: 2019-01-31 05:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12675330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: The story of Pin is locked safely inside Jin’s head.





	imagine

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

Gorgeous, sweet, amazing – Jin’s run out of words to describe him, the only one who infiltrates his mind, has for years. It’s been so long that Jin doesn’t even remember when or how it started, but he recalls the taste of those lips like he’s actually had it before, somewhere other than behind his eyes, along with the skin that burns so real under his touch and the noises that continue to echo inside his head long after the fact.

It’s been so long that he’s no longer ashamed. Words like “gay” don’t hurt nearly as much as “delusional,” even if the only one who is attacking him is himself. Because it’s not real, it can never _be_ real, and it’s just crazy to write and rewrite the same fantasy over and over every time he closes his eyes.

A thousand different ways it’s happened, them coming together as more than friends; sometimes, on more desperate nights, he skips that part entirely. Jin feels like a pervert because there’s usually sex, some kind of intimate activity that has him sweating and writhing in bed, careless to whether he stains his sheets like a teenager having a wet dream.

It’s not a dream if he’s awake.

When he stops to think about it, he’s no worse than the millions of fangirls who have the same impossible thoughts. But he tells himself he’s better than them because he’s not imaging the way his friend looks in the magazines, dancing on stage, even fanservicing his bandmates. That’s all work and while it’s still _hot_ , Jin is usually focusing more on lighting and expression and overall mood instead of the desired effect.

No, it’s not the Yamapi in the spotlight that gets him off, it’s the one that no one else gets to see. He’s hard-pressed to use words like ‘unkempt’ because to him Yamapi is always perfect, even on days off when his hair is sticking straight up and tangled and he’s rocking old, ratty clothes because it’s just Jin and Jin should be lucky he actually gets dressed.

It’s ironic because Jin would rather he _didn’t_. Of course he’s already seen all Yamapi has to offer but that doesn’t mean he would pass up the opportunity to see it again, perhaps in a different light to further separate him from the _entire planet_ who saw the An-An shoot or anyone who’s shared a bath with him. The thought of Yamapi hard is enough to arouse him, imagining what it would look like or – more importantly – what it would _feel_ like.

In his subconscious, Jin is beyond caring about degradation. When his eyes are closed, his reputation and morals are nil and inhibitions are low. Sometimes Yamapi coaxes it out of him, sometimes he just takes it. It’s always Yamapi who approaches him because Jin could never, not even in his own mind. There have been times when he was feeling particularly oral and simply dropped to his knees between Yamapi’s legs, imagining the unknown while pulling his own hair and pretending.

After all of these years, Jin thinks that he’s perfected the vision of Yamapi’s ecstasy face. It’s a mixture of his morning stretching face and the expression of pure bliss he makes after he eats something particularly delicious. The noises come from the grunts that result from a hard workout, maybe the frustrated whines when he’s being lazy and can’t reach something, _definitely_ that one time they raced around the park and collapsed in a heap of limbs by the swingset, hard breathing pressed in his ear that had Jin pushing him away and choking on his moan before his secret could be revealed.

Right now, in the comfort of his own bed, he still has to hold back because the object of his fantasies is sleeping on his couch.

Jin’s gotten really good at separating the two and hardly thinks about it anymore during waking hours. Somehow it keeps him _more_ focused on work and determined to do his best, to deserve losing himself later on in the world where he and Yamapi are together without complications.

A world that doesn’t exist for them right now. And probably won’t as long as they continue to be in the public eye.

Sacrifice, this is it.

All he can do is close his eyes, imagine Yamapi crawling into bed with him, scooting up behind him and wrapping a strong arm around his waist. On the more depressing nights, that’s all they’ll do, just cuddle and share the warmth that Jin emulates by piling on the blankets and hugging his pillow. Sometimes they’ll kiss, slowly and lazily, without any care in the world other than the here and now, the two of them together sharing their taste as they come together over and over again.

He’s seen Yamapi kiss before, for real and not on TV, and all he could do is stare. Some club, some girl, his hand firm on the back of her neck, guiding her as he nipped at her lips and eventually slipped his tongue inside. It was erotic and obscene and Jin had to look away, find someone to fuck in the bathroom because he was so turned on and jealous and drunk that it was either that or rip that bitch away from his Yamapi’s mouth.

If he’s being honest, conventional sex doesn’t really do it for him anymore. He can stick it anywhere and get off, but it’s not the same as having something inside him, filling him and owning him so personally. It took a lot of courage to walk into the specialty shop – incognito, of course – and buy the necessities, but god was it worth it. With his knees by his head and his ass lifted by a pillow, Jin can push the small toy in and out of his body, pushing his own buttons and making it even easier to pretend it’s Yamapi fucking him into the mattress.

He’s sure Yamapi would be much bigger, but he digresses.

It’s not healthy, this obsession, but it works for Jin. Dancing provocatively on stage is like practice for giving Yamapi a private show, maybe making a pole out of him and seeing how long it takes him to throw Jin to the ground. He sings his heart out because his vibrato makes Yamapi shiver, pours his soul into his lyrics because it’s the only way he can express his feelings.

Even he can’t lie to himself and claim that his attraction is purely physical. Yamapi is a loyal, supportive friend to anyone who will have him, but he has a special place in his heart for Jin. They’ve been through a lot together, the bad times as well as the good, and the one _real_ thing that Jin can latch onto is Yamapi’s unconditional friendship.

It’s something he never, ever wants to compromise.

Being like this is enough. In his mind he doesn’t have to worry about being awkward, doing something Yamapi doesn’t like, or other mood-killers. He can imagine Yamapi on top of him, behind him, underneath him, perfect as he is, smooth hands all over him, maybe grabbing him a little roughly. Possessing him.

And when he comes, spilling over his own fingers and biting back his cry, it’s nothing short of pure satisfaction. The days of being disappointed about the reality of being alone have long since passed; now Jin is just content to have someone to love, even just a non-corporeal version of his best friend who comes to him in the night and gives him what he needs.

“You seem happier,” Yamapi said to him earlier. “Whatever you’re doing, keep it up.”

If only he knew.


End file.
